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1x1x1x1 is in a terrible mood. Hate is white noise to them by now; they can exist after rounds without itching to kill all over again, at least not constantly. But sometimes- sometimes they’re reminded how terrible the survivors and mindless games they’re stuck in are, and every annoyance screeches against their nerves, flares every instinct until it’s never quiet- and it’s not quiet, not a chance, because past the noise of their head is a cacophony of bawling.
It’s almost disconcerting to hear the kid cry. He whines like clockwork, yes, begging 1x1x1x1 to play with him, do that again, summon your minions, but it’s weird to remember he’s a particularly destructive child who can wail like children do and not an infallible, broken record engineered to bother fellow killers.
C00lkidd’s been curled under a tree, wailing into his arms, since he returned. It manages to pierce through the stiff air, grinding cries against her eardrums with pauses only to sniff and sob. They’re sick of crying; it’s all they hear during rounds and now it’s all they will outside of them. He shuts his eyes and shifts away, even sinks to covering his ears, but infuriatingly, nothing blocks out the wailing.
It’s beneath her, but unfortunately, no one else in this purgatory is willing to do a thing. She finds herself standing over a still-sobbing C00lkidd, arms crossed.
1x spits, “Quit it already.”
“Shut up!” the kid yells back. “Shut up! You don’t get it! Nobody gets it! Shut-” He swipes at 1x. Immediately, they grab his wrists, and his graceless flails are rendered useless. The Spectre made the kid ridiculously strong, but so too are they- Spectre or not- and C00lkidd’s eyes aren’t even open as he flails claws and limbs, fruitlessly attempting to fight the grip and tears. “Let- let GO of me! Let go, let go-”
1x peers down at him. “Get what?”
C00lkidd squirms desperately. At the very least he’s no longer wailing, but he hiccups and sniffles, infantile snot and tears dripping repulsively down his face. 1x growls as C00lkidd’s flailing shakes her down for a moment, but wrestles back up and presses harder, “Get what?”
Finally, the kid deflates.
“Anything.” he sniffs. “Nobody knows h-how to play. They hit me and only ever me and help each o-other and it’s not fun, it’s not fun anymore! Why are they playing if they j-just hide anyways?! It’s not fair! It’s not fun, it’s like school and- and-”
Fresh tears burst from his eyes, and he struggles with newfound ferocity. This time, 1x1 lets go, cringing away as C00lkidd devolves into an incoherent mess once more. He pushes more “and”s out but breaks into a sob before he can continue, then cries and cries and- it’s loud, it’s insufferable. His voice somehow echoes throughout the woods with that earsplitting filter. 1x glares and backs away.
“They don’t know h-how to play! They’re bullies, and they get all these cool things, and it’s just me they fight. I’m s-so SICK of them- now it hurts when I miss, and my minions can’t do a-anything right and that voice in the sky is as mean as them, it doesn’t get it at all! It- it’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not FAIR-”
“C00lkidd-” 1x growls, only to promptly be drowned out by a corrupted, weeping howl. C00lkidd only just seems to register his arms are free, and they latch onto his shoulders, their unnatural claws digging into skin with no blood to draw.
Crying. Ceaseless crying with no room for reason, in round and out. 1x turns and stalks off, clenching their fists. 1x is a killer, the most powerful at that, not the child’s weakling of a father, and they’ll be damned if they have to sit through this because they’re the only one in this lobby with their consciousness intact. The child can’t do anything for him.
“And-” C00lkidd hiccups, “and it’s w-worse than school because Dad won’t look at me either! Dad- I don’t know what I did but he was the only one who played with me, and now he has new friends and cheats and runs and h- he’s scared.” C00lkidd halts, eyes wide, a hand still up to wipe tears that now flow unhampered. Suddenly quiet, he whimpers, “Th- they’re all scared of me.”
1x1x1x1 stops.
“At- at school, in here, everyone’s always scared even when I don’t do anything- I’m s- sick of them just being scared. W-what am I doing wrong? I’m not doing anything wrong! But they’re a-always afraid- and I hate it, I h-hate it, they’re c-cowards and j-jerks and I- I- I…” he sinks into his arms with mumbling too muffled for even the silent realm to pick up, nothing but sobs puncturing the air.
1x doesn’t move. It’s quiet, finally, if not silent, yet it’s wrong. Something is wrong in their chest. It shouldn’t be there, squeezing, bygone whispers that don’t matter anymore, never did-
They shut their eyes.
He’s above them with poorly concealed trepidation. A disgusting, disgusting emotion. They’ve hated it most since the beginning. They register ‘creator,’ but he seems shocked at what he’s done. What a joke, to shroud such a man in a powerful cloak.
He’s above them. They never had a chance. Their flesh was built to choke out any hopes before they formed. They can’t remember, can’t scream. Their body is slipping off them like sand, it’s a cloth and a body bag and a zipper across their teeth. And still, he dares look at them like that, the poor victim, his eyes wide and afraid.
A poisoned skybox, glitching streets, bodies across roads like toys. The heady smell of carnage seeps under his skin. Warmth oozes over her fingertips, a head frozen in fear in her hands. Exhilarating, fulfilling, or as close to it as they’ll get. Maybe they were born for this- but how dull. How dull. Cowards. They start running before she even moves. They can’t even look at her, with her twisted, smoking limbs and all.
He’s above her. He has nothing but that same expression, that same emotion over and over, yes, where does he think the rest of them are instead-
He’s below her. Feathers and bone in her hands, a body trembling against her skin. They savor each sickening crack. If that face doesn’t have the decency to wear hate, she’ll make it scream in pain-
They’re back in their body, unbreathing. The familiar sound of muffled, lung-wracking sobs shudder behind them. They look around, slowly, as if somewhere above or below they’ll find that expression taunting them again, or maybe nothing, nobody at all.
They breathe, a rasping and rattling sound that takes all their strength. They turn around.
1x1x1x1 finds himself next to C00lkidd. Before he realizes it, he snaps, “Do I look scared to you?”
After a beat, C00lkidd raises his head. Even in the dim night, his sunken eyes are red and watery. “No.” he wipes his tears and glares. “You’re just mean.”
1x scoffs. “Then what are you crying for?”
He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, a shudder running down his spine. 1x can see the bone. “It hurts,” C00lkidd sniffs. “I just want to play. I want to know w-what I’m doing wrong. I’m n-not…”
“They’re scared because you win. They’re cowards. Ignore them. Crush them. Have your fun. You’re more than they’ll ever be.”
C00lkidd rests his chin on his knees. His eyes are downcast and filled with stubborn tears. His mouth barely moves as he mumbles, “…I don’t want that.”
1x peers down at the kid. Measured, disdainful. How pitifully young the thing is. She could tell him the survivors all deserve it, ants scrambling to protect utter scum and practically worshipping the ground he walks on, but the fragile child would not listen. Her chest spasms with that foreign thing, that repulsive thing she cannot even remember. “Look up already.”
C00lkidd does.
“I won’t ask again. Do I look scared to you?”
For a beat, it’s quiet. Between the tear streaks and trembling and 1x’s mouth carefully set in a line, the blasé stare as if nothing C00lkidd does could ever shake her, it’s quiet.
Then, just slightly, the kid smiles.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.” He wipes his tears with greater conviction, an unsteady smile seeping onto his expression. “I- I’ll beat them. They’re just s-scared ‘cause I’m cool.”
Inside, something dead for a lifetime trembles, but 1x rolls their eyes. “Finally, you get it,” he groans, at last stepping away from this accursed tree. He doesn’t know why he puts up with any of this. He grows restless easily, but the idea the child grates on him less than his thoughts scratches at his insides.
C00lkidd, quiet this time, speaks up again, “Uhm. 1x?”
They stiffen, but turn. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” The kid shuffles, picking at his cape with his gaze to the floor. His words come out half-mumbled. “I didn’t mean it. You’re really nice.”
The world stops. 1x doesn't answer in time before C00lkidd smiles, smiles to hatred itself.
It strikes them, suddenly, that C00lkidd is not afraid.